


Sharpie Hearts

by DanishBoi03



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: Been A While Folks, Haven't Made Anything in a While..., I really shouldn't be given use of these tags, I'll go down with this ship, I'm a sucker for these--, Love me some Mafia Evan, M/M, Mafia Squad, Sorry Not Sorry, mafia!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 07:58:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19127854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanishBoi03/pseuds/DanishBoi03
Summary: Shaky fingers traced the faint outline of a familiar shape on his collarbone.





	Sharpie Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> So I’ve been gone a long while-- Sorry. I’ve been working on this particular piece for months now, only because I hit a major writer’s block. 
> 
> Good news though everyone--I got a Beta! It’s one of my close friends KhadVod, and they’ll be Beta’ing my stories until further notice. Thank you all for being so patient, and we hope you enjoy the story!

Ten years ago, if you told Evan Fong he would be ruling a majority of Los Santos and have his own mob crew, he would’ve laughed in your face and flipped you off. 

Nowadays though, if you tell him someone else is ruling the other half of Los Santos with their own crew, you’d be dead before you could finish the sentence.

Golden eyes glared out across the city of Los Santos, feathers framing the face they belonged to. The golden and brown feathers contrasted against the red jacket the man was wearing. White stripes, white feathers. His fingers played a dangerous game with a gun, the other five tapping impatiently on the window glass. 

His eyes reflected back at him as he thought.

He couldn’t tell you when it first started. Five, six years ago? Back, in highschool probably. There was an itch in his fingers even back then, but now he could identify the itch as a need, a need for power, authority. 

He could hear the other’s moving around him, chatting and laughing together.

They were family. 

They were happy.

He was gonna keep it that way, even if it killed him.

With his sort of luck, he’d have to do just that. 

“Evan!” A voice crowed in his ear, and a hand landed on his shoulder. ”C’mon man, you’re missing the fun! Stop mopin’!” The man, Evan, turned around to face the owner of the voice and hand. “This is no time to be messing around, Delirious. We don’t know what that fucker’s next move is, and we don’t know _when_ it is.”

Delirious laughed, mask forgotten in favor of showing off his vibrant clown makeup. The hand on Evan’s shoulder slid down to his arm, tugging him over to a crowded table, where people were laughing and eating, shoving at one another. 

A man with brown hair and a red eye looked up, and he smiled widely when he saw Evan. “Vanoss! You finally decided to come join us, eh?” Evan, otherwise known as Vanoss, huffed slightly before sitting down. “Yeah yeah Brian.” Brian laughed as a man in a grey hoodie, an omega sign blindfold on his face, leant over and stole a french fry from Brian’s plate.

“Ohm you shit!” The red eyed man yelled, reaching around a devil masked man to grab at Ohm. “Watch it man!” Ohm laughed, shouting back. “Sorry Cartoonz, it was worth it!” Cartoonz huffed as Delirious cackled. Ohm and Brian raced through the apartment complex, bumping into several other people. “WATCH IT BRIAN!” “Sorry Smitty!” “JESUS CHRIST GUYS!” “Sorry John!”

A soft smile spread over Evan’s face as he looked out over the family he loves so much. He reached up, taking off the owl mask to reveal his face, just watching and waiting for his crew to calm down.

Suddenly the door slammed open to the apartment, causing all the inhabitants to freeze in place.

“I GOT THE SNACKS!” Evan sighed in relief as Brock’s voice called out, and said man stepped into the apartment. His signature eye catching tank top and sweatpants seemed out of place, sticking out like a sore thumb with his shaved hair and sunglasses. Brock’s arms were filled with plastic bags, chips and treats almost spilling out onto the floor. “Brock!” Ohm cheered, turning and quickly running to hide behind his shorter form. “Protect me from the Terroriser!” Brock chuckled as he turned his gaze back on the angry man in front of him. “Now now Brian, I’m sure the sugar wafers I got will make up for whatever Ohm took from you.” 

As Brock and the two of them talked, Evan pulled his attention to Jonathan in front of him. “What’s up, Jon?” Said man stared at his fearless leader with worry in his eyes. “I’m worried about you, Evan. You’ve seemed really stressed recently.”

Vanoss sighed as he turned away from the blue eyes watching him, staring at the three to their right, lost in their own conversations. “You know why I’m stressed, Jon.” Jonathan huffed behind Evan, crossing his arms. “You know as well as I do that we can take care of that measly little group by ourselves!” 

Everything around them seemed to quiet. Time ticked by on the clock, and everyone stopped to watch their leader respond to the challenge in their comrades voice. 

Silence. Then-

“I’m going out for a bit. Don’t wait up.” The owl growled, keeping his back to Delirious as he snatched his keys up from the table. He shouldered by Smitty and John, and watched as Brian and Ohm stepped out of his way. Evan quickly sidestepped Brock, stepping out into the hallway. 

“Evan, buddy, if you’re goin’ out and looking to prevent a fight, maybe you should consider changing out of your jacket. It is, after all, infamous.” Brocks soft voice came out behind him, and Vanoss stopped. “How do you know that I’m looking to prevent a fight? Maybe I’m gonna have to pick one right here.” 

The tension skyrocketed. Brock and Evan stared each other down, a dangerous glint in gold, a dark understanding in brown. Seconds passed before Brock sighed. “I’m not saying stay. Just, if you are going, please change your jacket. I think we both know you aren’t leaving to pick a fight.”

Evan huffed before he consented to Brock’s wishes, tearing off his jacket and tossing it over near Ohm, who caught it. “Your mask too, Evan.” The mob leader huffed once more before reaching up and carefully disconnecting the mask. It fell away with a metallic clang, and hit the floor with a thud. 

Brock smiled softly, giving him a quick hug before slapping him on the back. “Go ahead tiger, do whatever you want.” The Canadian stopped before sighing, turning around and hugging the American close to him. 

“I'll be back soon, Brock.” He whispered.

Brock smiled. “I know.”

\-----------------------------------------------

 

Golden eyes flickered around as red converse met the ground in a steady rhythm. Fingerless, black, gloved hands that played with a pen, and his eyes landed on a man across the street. His eyes were focused on his phone, eyebrows furrowed. His brown hair, brown eyes, and white t-shirt and jeans seemed normal. But it was his stance and height that drew his eyes. 

Well, it was that and the fact that they were crossing the street with a car careening towards them. 

Golden eyes narrowed and red converse hit the ground in a faster, harder rhythm, and fingerless gloved hands reached out.

_”WATCH OUT!”_

Black met white in a brilliant clash. 

People screamed.

Tires screeched as the car swept right past where the man had been.

Brown eyes blinked up at golden, and a black shirt pressed against white. 

Chests heaving, legs entangled, and minds spinning, 

Evan Fong met Tyler Wine. 

\--------------------------

“God, I just can’t say thank you enough-” 

“You said it enough with the coffee and food.” 

Easy smiles were exchanged between the two as they sat in a booth at a local coffee shop. The brown haired man that Evan had saved had introduced himself as Tyler. He had offered to buy his savior coffee, not taking no for an answer, and for a moment, the mob leader had relaxed and followed. 

“No way! If you hadn’t had been there, I would have been flattened like a pancake!” Tyler yelled, causing multiple of the occupants to look at him in confusion. Evan felt his face grow hot and he recoiled at the thought. Him, a mob leader, the infamous Vanoss, blushing?! Impossible. He couldn’t be.

Tyler sent a blinding smile towards him.

Okay, he might be blushing a little bit.

Not a lot. 

Okay a lot.

Oh if only Brock could see him now. 

A tan hand waved itself in front of his face, bringing his attention back to the man across from him. “-Van? You okay? Think I lost you.” Tyler teased, a smile on his face. Evan huffed in amusement, shoving the man lightly. “Yeah--lost me cause you’re so boring!” 

A fake gasp reached his ears. “How dare you! I for one believe that I am quite amusing!” A finger poked his side, and he jerked in response, eyes widening. 

Tyler froze before a mischievous smile crept onto his lips. “Ah. I see.”

“Please don’t.” 

Minutes later, people were pushed out of the way on the sidewalk as the two sprinted down the streets of Los Santos. Evan was laughing as they chased after one another. The two skirted around the corner of an alleyway, and the larger grabbed the smaller’s shoulders, swinging him around and pinning him against the brick wall. Both were panting and giggling, and the black haired man’s head tilted up. Golden eye’s were twinkling with mirth as he huffed. 

His mouth opened to say something when the taller man swooped down like a vulture, capturing his lips in a searing kiss. 

Evan’s brain short-circuited, arms flailing before hands met Tyler’s shoulders.

It took him only a second to give in to the messy, needy kiss the other initiated. 

It was silent except for the faint sound of cars passing by, and remained silent for a few more seconds before something rang out through the alley. 

With an exasperated huff, Tyler pulled away from the stunned Canadian, hands fishing a phone out of his pants. As he answered it and stepped away him, Evan forced himself to gather his thoughts and breathing, fixing his jacket and brushing off any dust as Tyler hung up and turned around. 

“I’m sorry, I have to go. It’s a family thing, and-” Evan held a hand up, stopping the other man. “It’s okay, I get it. Here, let me give you my number.” Moments later Tyler swept his lithe frame into a tight hug, and whispered into his neck. “I will see you again, Evan Fong.”   
As the other quickly hurried down the street, the other stood in stunned shock. 

\-----------------------------------------------

Evan shut the door to his apartment behind him, and ignored the various people passed out in his home. Gold eyes flickered over all of them before moving on to the kitchen. Pancake mix and syrup gently swished in the grocery bag he was carrying, and he sat them down delicately on the counter. There was barely any sound as he set the bags down, and his head turned to make sure that none of them had woken up. His eyes met Brock’s, which had a glazed lazy look in them, and he smiled softly. 

The tired man stretched out languidly on the couch, yawning softly before he rolled off of the soft cushions. He stumbled over to Evan, who put groceries away with a terrifying efficiency

“Welcome back.” the American mumbled tiredly, draping his arms over the leader, who smiled. “Thanks, Brock.” Evan glanced around at the others, before leaning in and stealing a quick kiss. “How was everyone since I left?” 

Brock hummed, fingers playing with Evan’s hair. “Fine. You were on the news today.” Evan’s body tensed. “What?” Brock laughed softly. “Relax, it was just you saving that dude. That’s all. No big deal, just a small story.” Evan let out a breath, a smile breaching his face. “Yeah. He bought me coffee afterwards.” 

Brock let out a thoughtful huff as his hands wrapped around Evan’s body. “That all?” He tensed, hands freezing from where they held the cookies, ready to be put away. “He… He um…” Brock smiled loosely. “You know better then anyone that we wouldn’t let you go out alone without backup.” His hands pulled Evan closer. “So, is he a good kisser?” 

“BROCK!” There was a thump over at the couch, and Jonathan popped up from where he had fallen on the floor. “Jeez Ev, can ya yell any louder?” Brock smirked. “Yeah he can, especially when we got him pressed against the wa-” “BROCK!” Tan hands clapped over the Americans mouth as Jonathan threw his head back and cackled. 

A few hours later found them lying around in bed, limbs entangled and eyes shut. Evan stared at the ceiling, mind heavy with thought, and eyelids heavy with sleep. Brock’s arms wrapped around him from either side, head resting on the Americans arms. 

“Ev…? You still up?” Breath tickled the nape of his neck, and he blinked. “ What Brock?” “I hope you know I’m not mad at you.” 

Evan blinked. “About what?” 

“The kiss.”

Oh. 

“I can’t really blame you. He did look cute after all. Might even be a good addition to the gang.” 

Evan blushed, hiding his face in the crook of Brock’s neck. “Shut up.”

Soft laughter followed the command as golden eyes slid shut.

\-----------------------------------------------

The next day had Evan and Tyler rushing down a race track, laughter flying through the air as they crashed into each other. Hands clasped tight a few days later, and screams echoed through the dark theatre. There were stolen kisses and whispered promises at night, caught between two worlds, one not caring, the other oblivious to the other.

The day the two worlds clashed was dramatic, but contained. 

Tyler eventually accepted that Evan loved them both, even if he was a little colder at first. 

Evan was floored when Tyler kissed Brock as well.

So was Brock.

\--------------------------------------------

Golden eyes stared, narrowed, breath coming out soft and slow. 

A scuffle to his left. 

Feathers glinted in the streetlamp light, a muffled bang and a dull thud following them. 

“Target eliminated.” A static voice whispered. Red seeped into the cracks, highlighted by the dim light. 

A bang ripped through the air, tearing through an equally red jacket, exposing tan skin to cool night air. 

“Compromised, leaving position.” Golden feathers glinted in exposing light as they dove into shadows. Pink ears reflected the same light as brown eyes glared at where the owl had been, pistol barrel smoking.

\--------------------------------------------

“I want him.” Evan whispered into Brock’s neck.

“Then we’ll have him.” Brock whispered back, hands dancing down the other’s sides.

\--------------------------------------------

The day Brock and Tyler realized they were screwed was at a BoardWalk Carnival. 

The air was split with a squeal of laughter, and a triumphant yell.

_”YES!”_ Evan screamed as he reached out, plucking the giant stuffed bear thing off of the hook, shoving it in Brock’s face. “I WON IT!” The american chuckled softly as he pushed the fur off of his face, smiling down at his lover. “Indeed you did.”

There was another shout behind them before a bigger bear, obnoxiously pink and glittery, slammed into Evan’s face, sending a cloud of glitter into the air. “I WON A _BIGGER_ ONE!”

Tyler stepped into view, grinning widely at Evan, who laughed and took the bear off his face as well. 

Tyler and Brock’s breath caught in their throats as they gazed at him, eyes wide. His body from the waist up was covered in glitter, making him sparkle in the afternoon sunlight like a goddamn _angel,_ and really, how was that even fair-

Evan’s laugh filled the air, and the two gasped as they realized just how fucked they really were. 

It really shouldn’t have been that surprising.

\--------------------------------------------

Desperate hands pressed down on open wounds, screams piercing the air. 

Blue and white clothes contrasted with red blood and grey concrete, and bullets whizzed by their heads. 

_”STAY WITH ME JON STAY WITH ME-!”_ Sirens, bullets, quiet. 

Golden eyes filled with tears as fingerless black gloved hands pressed down on bullet wounds, held bodies together, carried fallen family, held on to hope. Mouth opened in desperate screams, begging, _pleading_ for them to stay awake, to stay, _don’t go-_

A tired mob leader collapses into safety, and cries. 

\--------------------------------------------

“Evan, wake up.” 

Golden eyes fluttered open to meet the cold, white walls of the hospital room. 

Brock stood in front of him, concern in his eyes and food in his hands. Evan groaned, eyes flickering to his left to watch Jonathan breathe in the hospital bed. “He’s okay, Evs. He’s gonna be okay.” 

Guilt swarmed in his mind, slowly replaced by anger. 

“This is my fault.”

Brock’s eyes softened as he set the food down, crouching down to be face to face with his seemingly fearless leader. “No it wasn’t.” 

Evan closed his eyes, resting his forehead against Jon’s cold hand. “Yes it is. If I had just listened-” “There’s no way you could have predicted this. No way for you to know that they would stoop that low.” He turned his body against the comfort, trying to push it away as his shoulders shook. “I could have. I could have sent out more scouts, could have _been there-_ ” Warm hands cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look at the one he loved in the eye. 

“It was not your fault.”

Silence.

“I'm going to kill them.” Brock’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?” “I’m going to kill them all. Going to kill them for hurting Jonathan. For hurting my family.” Evan growled, staring at him dead in the eyes. “And no one can stop me.” There was silence before Brock wraps his arms around the shaking man. “I’ve got you.”

Evan closed his eyes, breath shaking. 

“I’m going to kill them.”

“I believe you.”

“Really. I am.” 

“I love you.” 

Another shaky breath. 

“I love you too.”

\--------------------------------------------

It took two days for Jonathan to wake up. 

It took a week for him to be able to walk. 

It took a month for Evan to accept that what happened wasn’t his fault. 

Tyler stared at him with concern, lips moving, sound piercing the haze around his head. “-an? Are you okay?” A hand landed on the male’s shoulder, causing Tyler to look over, meeting Brock’s sad eyes. “I should explain…” As the tanktop clad man led the other away, Evan closed his eyes. 

It was quiet for once, cold hands reaching out and slipping around the cold exterior of an empty mug smelling of coffee. He knew this house. Knew it like the back of his hand. Yet he felt like a stranger. 

Two large hands clapped down on his shoulders, startling him out of his thoughts, and his eyes met brown. Tyler hovered over him, Brock by his side. 

Two pairs of arms wrapped around him, and a caring voice whispered in his ears as his world cracked slowly. 

“It’s okay Evan. You can cry.” 

In the shaded room in an apartment somewhere in downtown Los Santos, a man cried into the two people he loved most. 

\--------------------------------------------

His family tease them, of course. It’s not as if they don’t do the same. 

It was only fun, after all. Jonathan poked at his side, and Brock laughed as they interrogated Evan about the man he and Brock had fallen for. 

“Is he a good fuck?” Brian tossed in, causing Evan to choke on his water. “BRIAN!” They all laughed, and Ohm glanced at Evan from where he was perched on the counter, blindfold covering his gaze. “You’re happy, though, right Ev?” Evan turned to look at the other, a soft look growing in his eyes as everyone went quiet. 

“Of course. I love him.” 

It’s silent before Ohm smiled slightly. “Good. That’s all I need to hear.” Jonathan clapped the Canadian on the back as he smiled. “Thanks, Ohm.” 

The night passed by in a haze of laughter and drinks, and in the end, Evan laid back on his back, staring at the ceiling, surrounded by his family, a soft smile on his face.

_He really was happy, wasn’t he._

\--------------------------------------------

“When’s the next hit?” 

“Thursday.” 

“Location?”

“135 Ame Street. Brown’s Car Company. Large Car Factory.”

“Target?”

“Michel Brown, age 41. Car mechanic and owner.”

“Reasoning?” 

“Corruption in the Banking System. Faultily takes money from clients systems. Found guilty of Arson and Thievery. Released based on bail from co-conspirator.”

“Anything else?” 

“Wife and daughter, aged 40 and 12. Both clueless to his crimes. Innocent.” 

“Status?” 

“Recon is underway.”

“Good. Thank you, Brock.” 

“No problem Evan.”

 

\--------------------------------------------

Warm hands clutched a cold cup, lips and tongue turned blue. Soft pink lips kiss blue, and soft laughter followed. Hands held his, and three people disappeared into the crowd. 

Monday.

\--------------------------------------------

Bullets collided with metal, sparks lighting gasoline. 

The Gas Station lit with a brilliant explosion as owl faced pig. 

They faced off. 

They escaped. 

Flesh hand met brick as Golden eyes glared down at the filthy floor of the alley in anger. The infamous mob leader stood, only a feather and note left as warning. 

Tuesday.

\--------------------------------------------

Sweat dropped off his body, dripped into his eyes and stuck his hair to his forehead. Hands grasped at dips in skin, breath shaky and hitching. Hot breath hit the back of his neck, eyes fluttering and a high pitched whine left his throat. 

Warm lips worked at his neck, hands dragging down his sides. 

“B...Brock-!” A hand twisted, and lips met his chest. “T-Tyler!” Evan gasped, back arching. Hands slid down into crevices and lips quirked up into a small smile. “Shhh, we’ve got you.” 

Golden eyes fluttered shut, releasing the control he carefully kept a hold on.

Afterwards, soft laughter filled the room as gentle hands drew a heart onto collar bones, the intoxicating scent of sharpie mixing with the smell of love. 

Warm bodies laid entangled on the bed, stark black sharpie hearts resting on sweat covered collarbones. 

Wednesday.

\--------------------------------------------

“Ready?” 

“Ready.”

The world around him burned as he ran through the carnage, golden eyes catching the flames with passion and determination. Deft hands sent bullets through the air, giving them brand new homes in skulls and chests. His feathers glinted in the light from the fire, lips quirked up into a smirk as his eyes locked onto the target. 

His feet guided him towards the scared, pitiful man in the corner. 

He cocked his gun.

Closer. 

Safety off.

Closer. 

Click.

Through the carnage came a gunshot, and steel tore through red. 

Golden eyes met Brown.

“VANOSS!”

Vanoss stumbled back, hands placed over the new hole in his side. The pig, the fucking pig, grinned. 

“Well well, the fucking owl can be caught. Would you look at that.”

Vanoss glared up at Wildcat, moving to a defensive position. 

“Wildcat.” He growled, stepping back as he leveled his pistol towards the pig. “Funny seeing you here.”

Dangerous eyes glint in the dim lights, hands were strong, resolve stronger. “It seems we have some conflicting interests here, Vanoss. Care to step away?” He motioned towards the cowering man in the corner, who sat with a dark stain down the front of his pants. “As much as I would absolutely love leaving you alone,” Evan began, rolling to the side before raising his gun and firing at the other mob leader. The bullet tore through air, clothes, then flesh as the pig flinched away with a grunt. 

“I can’t let you get away with our newest client. So if you would kindly-” His eyes glimpsed pale skin stained with red on the pig's collarbone. His words caught in his throat as his eyes stared at the naked flesh and the stark black heart on the mobster's collarbone. 

The very same heart he drew on Tyler last night. 

Evan’s heart stopped as he stared at the damning piece of evidence. 

His hands dropped as he stepped back. His mind tumbled through possibilities, solutions, anything that told him that he was _wrong_ , that it wasn’t Tyler, it couldn’t be-

Blood splattered onto the floor as two bullets burrowed themselves into his chest, and Evan’s eyes snapped into focus once more. 

“T…” Disgusted brown eyes glared at him from across the warehouse. 

Hesitation. 

“RETREAT!” He screamed into the air, desperation fueling his actions as he dove behind the wall, sprinting away from the chaos, away from his lover. 

Confused, his family followed him, leaving the burning warehouse behind.

Leaving Tyler behind to watch after them in confusion.

\--------------------------------------------

It was after they had gotten home that he broke down. 

He had collapsed into Brock’s arms, sobbing as he ripped off his mask. It soon met the wall with a crack and feel to the floor as Evan screamed and cried, pleading, _please, please god not him-!_  
It was that night that he and Brock had to explain how they had ended up dating their worst enemy. 

It was also the night that they came up with a plan.

\--------------------------------------------

Tyler stared at his phone in slight fear and confusion at the vague text. 

Evan: _Meet me at the coffee shop._

Evan: _We need to talk._

All sorts of possibilities flooded his mind as he shoved on his shoes, wincing as his shoulder moved. That bastard owl had gotten him good, he thought as he grabbed his jacket. His bandaged shoulder pulled as he shoved it in the sleeves of the fleece. His eyes found the heart in the mirror. A soft smile flickered across his face. 

At least he hadn’t gotten that. 

The door shut to an empty apartment. 

\--------------------------------------------

Evan kept his head bowed as the door jingled to signify someone walked in. He knew who it was. 

“Evan? Baby, what’s wrong.” He didn’t lift his head. Tyler stepped closer to him, concern filling his eyes as he reached out for him. “Honey, what happened? Is everything oka-” “I know.”

Silence. 

Tyler’s breath stopped as Evan stood up, pulling a familiar pig mask up with him. “I know who you are, Tyler. Or should I say, _Wildcat._

Tyler didn’t breath as he stared at the mask on the floor. 

“But…” 

His eyes strayed from the mask over to Evan. 

“It’s okay, Tyler.”

Evan. Evan with such a familiar mask. 

Golden eyes glinted at him in the moonlight streaming in from the windows. 

The shop and streets were deserted, held at bay by their own fear.

Evan met Tyler’s eyes.

A fist met his face in return. 

“You mother _fucker!_ ” Tyler snarled down at the stunned owl, rage building in his body. 

“You dirty owl _bitch!_ ” Rough hands met his chest, hands that used to be so tender and warm, now cold and harsh as they shoved him to the ground. “You were fucking _playing_ with me this whole time, weren’t you!”

Golden brown eyes slowly started to fill with tears as he scrambled to get back up, stuttering. “N-No, I wasn’t, I swear, I-” Another blow swept him off his feet, shot sides screaming in agony as the man he loved hovered over him. Hate burned in his eyes as his feet met Evan’s side, and a pained yowl pierced the air in the coffee shop.

“Wait, Tyler, _Please-!_ ” 

“No! Fuck you, Evan! We’re done!”

Tyler marched towards the door of the coffee shop, and stopped at the entrance. “And next time we see each other…” Evan struggled off the floor as Tyler glared at him with hateful eyes. “I will _fucking kill you_.”

The door jingled, signalling someone was exiting the store. 

In the dim silence that followed, a proud man broke. 

\--------------------------------------------

Days passed before Vanoss emerged to the public again, his crew kicking ass and taking names as they flew through town in a fury. Not one gang was left out of the fury, all except the Wildcats. 

The Wildcats. Vanoss flinched as he spun, shooting down another lacky. His heart still ached at the thought of Tyler. 

His eyes tracked another agent, hands following with deadly accuracy. God. He should have just kept it a secret longer, he should have done anything else. A grunt as he flipped over and stabbed an idiot in the back of the neck. They went down with a gurgle as he turned. 

Evan now faced the opening of the alley, bathed in blood and determination in his eyes as he stalked forwards. 

Another mob wiped out by one man. 

Oh how they feared him. 

\--------------------------------------------

Their mistake came in the form of a challenge. 

Evan watched with growing fury as this mismatched, patched up mob tried to tear down his empire. 

“They’re weak! They rely on others to destroy us! They lack their own power, and instead leech off of us! They’re nothing to be scared of! Useless! Join me, and together we shall tear down the so called ‘invincible’ Vanoss!” 

Golden eyes lit with anger. How dare he. How dare he call what they risked everything for useless. 

Tension built in the group as they watched other broken, destroyed mobs flock to the bastard. 

Fists clenched. 

“Come on, Vanoss. If you’re really everything people say you are, then come fight us! We’ll show you what we’re made of!” 

The TV screen shattered as gloved hands broke through the fragile glass. 

All eyes turned to him. 

Anger burned inside of him, hate filling his lungs as he looked at his family. 

He saw the anger, the hate, the desperation in their eyes, the need to prove that they gave up everything for this. 

Silence. 

Then a cruel smirk. 

“Suit up.” 

Cheers ripped through the air, glasses shattering on the floor as they ran. 

His hands found the feathers of his mask. Glassy eyes stared up at determined ones. 

Cool metal surrounded his head. 

Deep breath

Golden eyes opened. 

Gone was Evan. 

There was only Vanoss.

\-------------------------------------------- 

Feathers drifted in the wind, the scent of sea-salt heavy in the air. 

The sun glinted off the red metal of the bridge, and the hum of choppers resided in the silence. 

The bridge was surrounded, water below lit up with the rose sunset, violent rays casting shadows on the proud structure. 

Eight people faced Fifty.

Cars parked at either end of the bridge. 

Police, he noted, eyes sweeping the length of the bridge, assessing the people in front of them. 

He could recognize some of them, he realized. They all came from the mob’s he had destroyed through the years.

They all stood still as statues. 

They had played this game before. The first one who moved lost. 

Golden eyes glared at the opposition. 

Those same eyes looked over his group. 

They all focused on the other group, determination and anger pulsing in their eyes. 

Brock’s eyes met Evan’s. A soft smile spread across his face. 

His lover didn’t usually fight. But today he carried his gun, face just as determined as the rest of them. 

His heart ached once more. 

The bridge stayed silent, tensions rocketing across the expanse of pavement. 

A click. 

A thought flitted across a desperate mind. 

_Why me?_

Black gloves clenched on the trigger, and gunfire exploded around them. 

A shout ripped through the air, a scream, a command. 

_”ATTACK!”_

A brutal roar shattered the sky, fiery tendrils licking at clouds and tainting buildings. 

His feet moved before his mind could, arms shaking with recoil. 

People dropped like flies, and Evan watched as Jon took to the skies, sniper in hand as Ohm shot back to back with Cartoonz.

Pride filled his chest, replacing the devastating ache as Brock covered Brian, SMitty and Kyroz dancing between each other to take them down, one by one. 

But Evan, he had only one goal. 

Fury burned in his eyes as he stalked across the bridge towards their pathetic leader. 

Fear resided in their eyes as he tore down his enemies, tearing them to shreds and tossing them aside as if they were pieces of paper. Anger fueled his relentless death march, bullets whizzing in the air around him, the hum of helicopters barely audible over the sounds of screams.   
The bastard grit his teeth and raised his gun, shooting sporadically as he backed away. His demise was getting closer with each breath, a step a mile. Golden eyes were filled with fire, sun castings sharp shadows across his form. Bodies laid behind in his wake, forming bloody wings of destruction that gleamed in the sun's dying breath. 

The fear grew the closer he got.

He broke. 

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean t-!” 

Gloved hands shot out, gripping throat and gun. 

“The hell you didn’t, you fucker.” Evan gritted out, tightening his grip. 

Desperate eyes glanced behind the monster in front of him, hoping one of the fools he recruited was coming to save him. 

But there was no one who could save him, felled in the wake of destruction that swept across the bridge. 

Delirious sat on the rails of the news chopper, gun glinting in the light, Ohm and Cartoonz blowing smoke off their weapons. Brock watched with hawk eyes, Brian next to him, cleaning off his gun. SMitty and Kyroz high fived as Evan smirked. 

“There’s no one left. You should have known better then to challenge us.” Evan whispered softly, grip tight. 

Seconds go by and their eyes start to roll into the back of their head when he releases them. 

“I’ll let you go. It’s obvious you’re new here, else you wouldn’t’ve tried to challenge me.” 

Evan turned his back on the disgraced foe. 

“Take my mercy as a blessing. Next time…” A laugh. “I won’t be as merciful.” 

As he stalked off, he smiled triumphantly at Brock, at the man that meant the world to him. 

He stared at him a cold hands encased his mouth, as cold hands slipped the cold embrace of death into his back, the cool blade contrasting the hot, pumping blood. It stained his skin, tainted him in irreversible ways.

“Never turn your back on the enemy, fool.” Rasps his slayer, and as quick as it came, it left. 

Golden eyes met dark brown as blood slipped from his lips, as knees hit the hard concrete. Screams were muffled and movement muddled as he smiled in a daze. Then…

_Nothing._

“ _EVAN!_ ”

\-------------------------------------------- 

The city went quiet. It didn’t really, people still walked, still talked, cars drove and things moved. But inside the darkest alleys, inside coffee shops and broken buildings and underneath bridges, it was silent. In bars, in clubs, in scuffed up shops, it was silent. Eyes were wide as they watched him hit the floor. 

Hands were clenched around the objects they were holding, and jaws were slack as they watched the blood pool around him.

Dark brown eyes were filled with horror as they watched Brock scream Evans name. 

The remote clattered to the floor as he burst up, hands finding the tv screen, forced to watch as the man who dealt the final blow to the battle escaped. 

Forced to watch as Brock ran across the bridge to scoop Evan up into his arms, limp Evan, who’s eyes were closed and fingers dripping the blood of his enemies. Evan, whose eyes may never open again. 

Evan and his stupid golden eyes and dumb smile.

Evan, the idiot who he gave his heart away to.

Evan, who was currently bleeding out in the arms of his love on live television. 

The TV screen fizzled out to the red and white of the News Station, a shaken reporter standing on the bridge. “Stacy Clark here with BAC News, here to show you the hottest news of the week.” Dread spun around his mind, capturing his heart in a vice grip. “-is currently being transferred to Central Los Santos Medical Center for emergency surgery-“ He didn’t bother staying after that.

His crew was startled as he burst through the doors, barreling down the street. 

Without hesitation they followed their leader down the streets of Los Santos, armed and shocked. 

Citizens jumped out of the way and cars screeched to a stop in the street, allowing him and his family to run towards the place that held the man who he desperately wanted to hate but couldn’t. 

Desperation filled his veins, fueled his crazed adrenaline, forced his legs to keep pounding on the streets, until the stark white top of the hospital came into view. 

The staff jumped as they burst through the double doors to the waiting room, eyes blazing and heaving. 

“Where is he.” He whispered to the stunned silence of the room.

“S-sir… y-you can’t-“

_“TO HELL WITH I CAN'T, WHERE IS HE?!”_ He roared. His fist met hard concrete, and the staff flinched. 

“He’s in room 117, i-in surgery!” 

Seconds later the room was clear, the racket leading into the hallways. 

It all came to a standstill when they met.

Brown eyes landed on Brocks tear filled ones, shock and distraught evident on his face. The two groups faced each other, one in shock and the other in confusion. 

Tyler breathed out, reaching for his lover. “Brock-“ 

It exploded.

_“NO! Stay AWAY from me!”_ Brock yelled, standing up, chair screeching back across the floor. _“You HURT him! You SHOT HIM and KICKED HIM and LEFT HIM!”_ With a harsh shout they scattered as Tyler hit the floor, Brock standing over him, holding bloody knuckles. _“You left him_ …you...you left us…” he choked off on his own sobs, tears spilling down his face like the blood that poured from Evans back. His knees buckled and he collapsed into the open arms of Tyler, who held him close as he weakly punched his arms. “You left us… just like that…” Tyler flinched, knowing he was guilty. 

“I-I’m Sorry-“ “Shut up. Just… just shut up…” Brock’s cries became muffled as he buried his face into Tyler’s neck, hands clutching the lapels of his faux jacket. They stayed like that for hours; just holding onto each other like they might disappear if they let go. Eventually the two mobs settled around the small waiting room, silent and wary of one another, but held back by mutual respect of the two in the middle of it all.

It wasn’t until it was nearing midnight that they got the news. 

“Mister Barrus?” 

Brocks head jerked up from where it rested against Tyler’s neck, cheeks flushed and eyes red from crying. Tear stains stood out against the coloring as he quickly stood, dragging Tyler with him to face the doctor that had entered the room. “T-That’s me.” 

The doctor sighed softly and glance down at his clipboard. “Well, I am here to inform you that…” 

The room held its breath, anticipation clouding their faces. 

“Mister Fong will make a full recovery in time.” 

The silence exploded into loud cheers and screams, bright smiles covering the faces of each and every single one, whether or not they were in the same crew. 

Tyler’s eyes remained wide, frozen in one spot. Evan was… Evan was okay? Brock’s grip tightened on his hand. “Can… can we see him?” 

The doctor adjusted his glasses, averting his eyes. “Well, it’s currently not visiting hours, so I’m afraid you can’t-“ A gun found its way to his face, muzzle warm against his skull. Tyler’s eyes glinted dangerously in the waiting room, silence around them. 

Sweat dripped down his nose.

“-can’t, can’t NOT see him, yeah-“ He stammered, holding his breath and smiling nervously as he was stared down by both gangs. 

“Good.” Brock said, grabbing Tyler’s hand before dragging him out of the room, towards Evan, towards the love of their lives.

It was dark in the hospital room, but the moonlight shone through the curtains and illuminated the still form on the hospital bed. A breath left Brock’s body as he let go of Tyler’s hand and moved to Evan’s side. 

It was...surreal, to see Evan like this. His infamous jacket lied on the chair next to his bed, bloodstained and battle worn. His golden eyes were held shut by sleeps touch, bandages a stark white against tanned skin. 

Vanoss’s mask sat next to him. 

Tyler met its lifeless gaze, and then let them move over to Evan. Evan was Vanoss. Vanoss was Evan. Vanoss was there when Evan saved his life. He was always there.

Evan was Vanoss. 

Tyler let out the breath he was holding as he came to a sudden realization. 

He was an _idiot._

He left his spot across the room and came next to Brock’s crying figure and Evan’s pale body.

Warm hands clasped theirs, Tyler’s brown eyes set in determination. He was an idiot once. He wasn’t going to let this slip through his fingers again. 

Morning found two bleary eyes meeting their shocked stares, crying, and berating mixed with cries. 

Evan chuckled softly as Brock clung to him, wounds protesting the rough love that was dealt on him upon awakening. Then he glimpsed Tyler moving towards him and instinct pulsed through his body, propelling him to feel for his gun. 

Tyler’s eyes widen and he froze as surprisingly steady hands leveled the barrel towards his head, steely determination clashing with uncertainty. “What are you doing here.” Evan hissed, lips curling back in a snarl even as his eyes lit with something akin to hope. It made his chest ache to see the combination warring inside his mind. 

A deep breath. 

“I’m sorry.” 

His eyes flickered.

There was so much more to those two words then just that. They both knew what he was sorry for. 

_I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for leaving you. I'm sorry you got hurt because I wasn’t there for you. Im sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry._

A tense pause, then-

A sigh as Evan let his gun drop to the floor. 

“Get over here you big idiot.” 

Tyler’s body collided with the hospital bed and Evan’s arm as he wrapped his arms around him in a desperate grip, soft cries filling the tiny space.

Graceless smiles tilted their faces as their family piled into the room, screams and laughter spilling outside the second floor. 

They had each other, and that was all they needed.

Soft fingers traced the faded black heart just above stark white bandages.

It was alright now.

_It was alright now._

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback and comments are appreciated, and all criticism is accepted! 
> 
> Loved it? Hated it? Let me know!


End file.
